


Love Can Heal

by marvelandimagine



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Red Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 06:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelandimagine/pseuds/marvelandimagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint x Reader. While training with Clint, you get nervous while he touches you; it triggers you back to the Red Room where you were tortured and scarred badly. Clint doesn't know until Natasha tells him and he comes to your room to apologize and comfort you. Emotional comfort to making out, angst then fluff, good stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Can Heal

“Just pull back, tight grip and eyes locked on target, then let it go,” Clint said patiently as he watched you take aim at the painted human outline hanging in front of you.

Your jaw clenched firmly with concentration, you released the arrow only to screech in exasperation as it hit the white canvas – clear inches away from any of the marked off points on the drawing.

“I’M SO STUPID I AM NEVER GOING TO GET THIS,” you yelled angrily.

Natasha clucked her tongue sympathetically from her seated position next to Clint on the grass. “No worries, Y/N, it took me weeks to get it down.”

Her words only fueled your frustration. “Great, it’ll probably take me months then,” you snapped irritably.

Clint sighed and sat up, jogging over toward you. You took a step back out of instinct and you looked at him inquisitively. “What?” You huffed out as he gave you a confused look.

He smiled. “I’m not going to bite, Y/N.” His smile widened as he winked. “Unless you’re into that.” Your rigid demeanor loosened a bit as you let out a laugh, rolling your eyes.

Clint was one of the only members of the team who knew how to really relax you when you got mad at yourself – it happened a lot, and sometimes it got to the point where your attack on yourself swirled out of control into a full blown anxiety attack. Clint, with his steady gaze and firm yet kind tone, was always able to pull you out of your head and calm you down. You hated that you relied on him, but since you were adamantly against going on medication, you figured it wasn’t too bad of an alternative.

Clint’s hands were suddenly on your waist, adjusting you into better form. “You could take me to dinner first, Clint,” you muttered, the smirk in your voice evident. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. “Square your hips more. Good. Now,” his hand moved to the small of your back abruptly and you moved away quickly at the touch. “Y/N, you want to get better, come here so I can show you how to fix your form,” Clint said exasperatedly.

He missed the flash of panic on your face, but Natasha didn’t. You caught her gaze and she was watching you intently. You swallowed hard as you slowly stepped toward him, flinching at his firm grasp on your wrist as he guided you. His hand moved to your shoulders and that was it – you dropped the bow and recoiled.

“I think I’m done for the day, Clint,” you blurted hurriedly as he looked at you with bewilderment. “I’m just going to keep getting frustrated with myself and I don’t feel like having an anxiety attack today.”

“Y/N, you’re doing fine! It’s your first day and -” Clint was cut off by Natasha interjecting. “Clint, let her go. She can pick it up tomorrow; I remember I was super annoyed too when I didn’t get it right away.” She smiled at you gently but you couldn’t smile back. You just nodded and stepped into the sliding doors of the tower, hurrying quickly down the hall as the tears of embarrassment and pain started to fill your eyes.

“Stupid, worthless, failure,” your brain hissed out.

You ducked into the nearest training room so that no one would hear your crying.

——-

You didn’t know it, but Natasha had followed you to your current hideout, patiently waiting for the tears to stop before she came to talk to you. Your tears ebbed and you looked into a mirror, lifting up the fabric of your tshirt to dry your eyes.

Your heart seemed to stop as you heard a shocked, “Y/N?,” spinning around to see a visibly startled Natasha who had caught a clear flash of the angry red marks that lined your skin.

“Nat,” you said quickly, your hands smoothing your shirt down in a panic. “I’m fine really, I was just upset, you know how I get -”

Natasha looked at you sadly. “Y/N, is that why you flinched when he touched you?” She moved closer as your face whitened.

“I didn’t, I don’t know what you mean,” you muttered weakly. A lone tear fell down your face as Natasha moved closer, gently lifting up the soft blue material to see dozens and dozens of scars across your back and shoulders. She dropped your shirt lightly, and you felt your throat tightening.

“Y/N,” Natasha repeated and you were surprised to hear how choked her voice was. “You could’ve told me.”

You shook your head miserably. “I didn’t want you or anyone to worry. Or to not trust me.” Your voice cracked with emotion as you thought about the prospect of revealing your upbringing in the Red Room to the team. You wanted the past to stay there. “I guess you were a much better student than I was because you can still wear tank tops,” you said with a harsh laugh, although your mind jumped back to the slice of your teacher’s blade carving into your skin. “Sloppy work. Unacceptable, you silly girl. You WILL learn control or you will know suffering.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and felt Natasha’s arms pull you into a hug as you sobbed into her shoulder. “I can’t shake it, I thought it was ok but it’s not and I hate this. I hate what they did to me,” you cried. “And now Clint is going to think that I’m crazy.”

Natasha pulled away, soothingly rubbing a hand in your hair. “Y/N, listen to me, he does not think you’re crazy. He may be confused right now, but it’s not going to change him liking you, OK?” She paused for a brief second before continuing. “He really does like you a lot, he’d want to know. The whole team would.”

You looked at her miserably, shaking your head like a scared child. “They can’t know Nat, I can’t admit that I kept this from them, they’ll hate me forever, I’ll get kicked off the team,” your voice broke as it dissolved into choked sobs.

Nat tilted your chin up soothingly. “Do you want me to talk to them? I get why you didn’t want to tell them, I can explain it for you.” You hesitated, not sure of how to proceed. You took a deep breath and nodded. Nat smiled encouragingly. “Go lay down for a bit, OK?” You don’t have to see anyone else today if you don’t want to.“ She gave you a reassuring smile. “I still love you. The team still will.” She paused for a second again, the corner of her mouth turning up. “Clint still will.”

You felt exhausted from crying, but you still picked up on the tone she gave. You stared at her with an odd look as she smiled. “You two will still be fine, I promise.” She patted your shoulder and turned to exit the room, leaving you dazed in a torrent of emotion.

Her words rang in your head. “Clint still will.” “He loves me? She just means as a friend. Uh, then why did she specifically mention him and not any of the other boys? Cmon, you know how much you like him. Yeah but it’s stupid to want anything more.” You argued with yourself as you exited the room and moved up the stairs to your bedroom. You plopped down on your bed facedown and let the exhaustion carry you to a nap, hating yourself for lying to the team about where you came from but also hating yourself for desperately hoping that what Natasha said about Clint loving you was true.

——

You woke up hazily to a light knock at your door. You blinked blearily as you heard Clint’s voice calling your name. Your heart pounding, you bolted upright, looking in the mirror on your side table as you wiped off as much smudged mascara as you could. You smoothed your hair to one side and took a deep breath, pulling your knees toward your chest. “It’s open,” you said just loudly enough for him to hear it.

Clint opened the door and shut it behind you, looking at you with a pained expression. “Does everyone know now?” You said nervously.

He nodded, the sadness in his gaze apparent. His eyes flickered to the spot on the bed next to you and to your desk chair. You noticed. “You can sit here,” you said hoarsely, motioning to the bed.

He sat down gingerly and you swallowed, averting your gaze as you felt him staring at you. “Y/N, please look at me,” he said softly. You bit your lip but you tuned your head, your eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry, Clint,” you whispered. “I didn’t know how to explain it, why I get how I get, without telling you guys the truth. I was so fucking terrified … I didn’t want you all to look at me differently. And I didn’t want you to think …” You trailed off as you exhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself. “I didn’t want you to think I was fragile,” you muttered quietly.

Clint shook his head as he inched closer to you. Your bodies were close to touching and you could smell his cologne, breathing it in like a drug.

“Y/N, what you went through and having these attacks, that’s a completely expected thing. You’re not fragile in any sense. You’re really strong and I, we all respect that about you. We just want you to feel better and know that we all care about you no matter what.” He rubbed his neck with his hand. “If I would’ve known how it would’ve triggered you, I wouldn’t have tried positioning you and I’m sorry.”

“No Clint, you didn’t know. You were trying to help me. I definitely needed the help,” you said with a weak grin. He smiled at you and you both sat quietly for a second. “Honestly,” you started slowly, hardly daring to believe what you were about to try. But why would Nat have hinted otherwise? “I normally would have bolted at the contact on the scars, but from you, it felt nice. Safe. So I tried to stay. Maybe without a weapon in my hand it’d be different,” you said, your heartbeat racing.

Clint’s expression gave nothing away and you felt your heart sink. “Mental reminder: yell at Nat later” you thought miserably. Suddenly, Clint’s hand was wrapped around your waist again. “Still nice?” He murmured, and you were suddenly aware of his thigh pressing lightly against your own.

You nodded and met his gaze, his eyes flickering to your lips and back up. Hardly daring to believe it, he moved in closer toward you and your eyes closed as he placed his lips on your gently. You broke apart after a few moments, your head spinning. Without breaking eye contact, Clint slowly moved up your shirt sleeve to expose the scarred, mutilated flesh. You didn’t jerk away this time and he pressed his lips to your shoulder and you felt yourself shiver; not with fear or in pain with the memory of how they got there, but with pleasure. He sat up and brought one hand to frame your face, kissing you more firmly this time as you wound a hand in his brown hair. He pulled away unexpectedly after a few moments of your lips working together, gazing at you tenderly. He gingerly wrapped his hands around the edge of your shirt, waiting to see your reaction. You bit your lip. “They’re not pretty, Clint,” you said hesitantly. He pressed his lips to your forehead. “But you still are,” he hummed into your ear. You smiled slightly as you let his hands pull your shirt overhead.

You sat there anxiously, the black bra you wore contrasting heavily with the marks that ran rampant and jagged across your flesh. “Jesus,” Clint muttered quietly, his eyes meeting yours intensely. You gave a wry smile. “Told you it was bad.” Clint pushed you onto your back gently as he moved above you, your hands working to take his own shirt off. “Scars show what you survived through. That’s who you are, a fighter, Y/N.” You felt tears of gratitude sting in your eyes and you took a deep breath, running your own hands across his toned stomach as he sighed contentedly. He lowered himself down toward your scarred chest, his lips grazing gently against them. After he circled around your chest, he brought his hands to your breasts and you inhaled as you pulled him closer to you, his chest now upon yours. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. Inside and-” he smiled as his fingers worked nimbly at your bra clasps as you arched your back, smiling. He tossed it aside and looked at you, his expression a mix of lust and affection. He cupped both of your breasts in his hands as he nipped lightly at your neck. “Out,” he murmured happily into your ear.

You were surprised at how this kind of pain could feel good, that you were surrendering yourself to his touch. “It’s because you’ve had a crush on him forever, idiot,” your brain yelled happily. You brought your lips to his and moved to bite at his own neck, pulling away and smiling at the clear desire in his eyes.

“Before this goes where it’s going to go, I probably should tell you something. You said I can tell you anything, right?” You said, your heart racing.

Clint nodded and rolled onto his side, his thumb running down the curve of your waist. You swallowed heavily and took a deep breath. “I like you a lot, Clint. Probably more than my head would like. And I’ve never been good at feelings or handling them but I just wanted you to know. You deserve that much.”

Clint looked at you happily. “Y/N, I like you a lot too. I’m not used to feeling like this either, and normally I’d run too but like you said before … With you, it’s different.” He ran a thumb across your cheek. “It feels nice.”

You smiled fully this time, wrapping your arms around his neck as he wound his own around you. You pulled away with a sly smile. “Well, I also know something that would feel nice,” you said coyly, your thumb moving to run against the waistband of his pants. He let an “mmm” as he grinned, flipping you nimbly on top of him as you both laughed.

“How about you show me then?” He said, his eyes sparkling. “And after,” he ran his hands down your own jeans, working to unzipper them as you worked on his. “I can take you to dinner, just like you mentioned at training.”

You nodded and kissed him hard, humming happily you both moved against each other. You weren’t fragile, but you could be vulnerable. And maybe that was worth it to be with someone with Clint. To learn how to let love in. As more clothes came off, you knew you were revealing much more to him than just skin. You were showing him your story. And as you laid there after laughing and talking as he said all the things he loved about you, you were so happy you did.


End file.
